Contamination
by Savva
Summary: Hermione Granger is a naughty, naughty girl. Written for Hermione Smut Fest. AU. Humour. Blaise/Hermione with Draco on a side


**This little teaser was written for Hermione_smut Fest at LJ**

**Title:** Contamination

**Prompt:** [Leading male] brews a potion to increase his pheromone output to attract Hermione to him (as a joke, a prank, or some other non-romantic motive), but something goes wrong—instead, he's keenly attuned to Hermione, and he can't stop watching and wanting her.

**Summary:** Hermione Granger is a naughty, naughty girl.

**Pairing:** Blaise/Hermione with Draco on a side

**Genre:** PWP(kind of, not really), humour

**Warnings:** AU, limes, UST, dirty language

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much to my wonderful betas RussianDestruction and AmyLouise.

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable character, settings etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended, and no financial gain is resulting from this work.

~*~

**Prologue**

Hermione glanced at the clock and groaned—it was already almost ten. "Bugger," she muttered. Although exhausted and starving, she still had one more letter to send before she could go home. Bugger, indeed.

Muttering under her breath that her foolish workaholic habits would be the death of her, she summoned the MZI file and opened it. For a moment, she contemplated the possibility of skipping that stupid audit notice altogether. Alas, she knew damn well that she couldn't just show up unannounced. By law, she was bound to notify business owners a minimum of two hours before the start of the inspection. To be honest, she wasn't looking forward to tomorrow. Spending a day with those two stuck-up, arrogant bastards (even if they were admittedly gorgeous looking) wasn't her idea of a good time at all. Hopefully, she would at least be able to find some discrepancies in their protocols. Hermione snorted, imagining those two snakes squirming. Yes, that definitely would brighten her tomorrow.

With a heavy sigh, she rubbed her tired eyes, took her quill and began to write. In fifteen minutes, all required forms and an accompanying letter were ready. Hermione hurriedly folded the papers and stuffed them into an envelope; not noticing that one of her dark brown eyelashes had fallen out and attached itself to one of the pages. Standing up, she quickly cleaned her desk and left the office, taking the letter with her. After a quick stop at the Ministry's Owlery, she would be free as a bird. Thank goodness!

Fifteen minutes later, Laura, a long-suffering administrative assistance in Malfoy & Zabini Industries (MZI for short), threw that same letter onto one of her bosses' desks and let out a weary huff. She was finally done for the day.

**Next Morning**

It was seven in the morning when Draco Malfoy stepped into his office. He liked to come in at least an hour earlier than Blaise. That way he had an opportunity to go over the mail in silence and solitude, because even though they each had their own offices, Blaise somehow always ended up in Draco's. Was it an echo of Blaise's lonely childhood, or just his natural love of company? Who knows? Whatever it was, it didn't matter. Draco wasn't really against it—they had known each other long enough to be able to work around their differences.

Seven years ago, when they had started their company, Lucius had given him three months before the bankruptcy. Well, the old fox couldn't have been more wrong. With Draco taking care of sales and day-to-day operation, and Blaise being responsible for new ideas and innovations, their union proved to be extremely successful, and today, MZI stood strongly on the market as one of the best-known potions making companies in Wizarding Britain.

Draco opened the shades, eyeing the pile of mail. Rounding his desk, he sat down and took the letter on the top. Recognising a familiar hallmark, he arched his eyebrows in surprise, and muttered, "What on Earth does the Ministry want from us?" He opened the envelope with a flick of his wrist and quickly ran his eyes over the letter. "Shite," he cursed. Being audited in a mere two hours by one obnoxiously thorough Hermione Granger wasn't in his plans for today. "Shite," he repeated again, swiftly raking through the attached forms and grimacing. _Whatever_, he said to himself eventually. _Laura will take the brunt of it anyway._ Somewhat placated by that thought, he forcefully tossed the notice into the bin, causing Hermione's eyelash to break free from one of the pages. Suddenly airborne, the tiny dark-brown particle slowly circled in the air until it found a new home on the sleeve of Draco's expensive grey suit.

When Blaise appeared at the door twenty minutes later, Draco was already done with the mail. "Hey, mate," said Blaise from the threshold, and enthusiastically sauntered inside. "I have a pleasant surprise for you, darling," he drawled with mocking sweetness.

"Good, because so far my morning has been nothing but shite," replied Draco. "I have news for you as well, and they're not pleasant."

Blaise, not paying much attention to Draco's words, reached the desk and smacked a scroll on it. "You're going to flip out, Draco, I swear," he said.

"What is this drivel?"

"This _drivel_ will bring us millions, mate. I found it in my mum's old recipes. She said she used to drive men bonkers with it."

"Hmm," hummed Draco as he thoughtfully perused the scroll. "What's the key?"

"_Sex appeal_, baby—primitive but brilliant. I already made a few basic alterations to the formula to make it work on girls. Instead of shagging that pretty blonde I picked up in The Leaky, I spent the night tweaking ingredients. That, my friend, is true dedication, right there." Blaise gave Draco a toothy grin.

"Right. Good boy. Perhaps we can find your blonde tonight. Think she can handle both of us?"  
Blaise slapped Draco's shoulder. "Hey, who said that I'm going to share?" They both guffawed. "Come on, let's brew it," said Blaise, still laughing as he opened the door to their private lab where they occasionally tried out new potions.

After a quick glance at the clock on the wall, Draco decided that they still had enough time before Granger's invasion and followed Blaise down the stairs. "How much time do we need, Blaise? We have an inspector coming from the Ministry."

Blaise, already with a cauldron in his hands, grimaced. "Inspector? Whatever for?"

"Haven't a clue. I just know that we've got the nastiest of them all—bloody Granger," replied Draco with disgust in his voice. "I don't think there is any reason to panic though. Laura's skilled enough to handle her. We won't be needing to waste our time on some annoying little Ministry snoop."

"Hmm." Blaise blinked and scratched the back of his head, suddenly looking slightly guilty. "Ahem, I kind of let Laura take the day off," he muttered quietly.

"You what?! Why?"

"Well, she asked. She has been nice to me," drawled Blaise, looking everywhere but Draco. "I wanted to be nice to her."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "_Nice to you_… Exactly how nice has she been to you? Huh?"

"Bugger off! It doesn't matter." Blaise placed the cauldron on the stove. "It's for the better, I reckon. We now have a unique opportunity to try our new formula on Granger. Damn, it's going to be fun."

"What if it doesn't work on her?" Draco didn't sound convinced, although he began to help Blaise with ingredients anyway.

"It will, mate, it will." Blaise let out a chuckle and wiggled his eyebrows. "Can you imagine that little prissy Gryffindor getting all hot and bothered?"

Draco sceptically shook his head and drawled, "Nope."

"All right, you'll see, my disbelieving friend. Now, let's get to work, because if I understood correctly, our arses are about to be whipped." Blaise added a mock sniffle. "But alas, only figuratively."

Draco rolled his eyes and began to chop butterfly wings. Once done, he put them into the steamy cauldron, unknowingly adding one more ingredient to the formula: the little eyelash, which had been sitting on his sleeve right until that moment.

Almost two hours later a light mauve, sweetly scented potion was brewed, cooled and transferred into a vial. Draco took a sniff and then shrank back, announcing, "I'm not taking it. Frankly, I don't want Granger drooling all over me."

"Well, whatever you say. Just don't get all jealous and moody when she puts her plump Gryffindor-red lips around my cock." Blaise nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders and took a spoonful of the potion.

"You're delusional. It is not going to happen. I know Granger, and I'm telling you that no amount of potion will ever make her go down on you."

"Well, we'll see mate, we'll see."

They returned to the office right on time. The clock on the wall chimed ten times, and a millisecond later they heard a muffled pop of Apparition. "It seems that our inspector is here." Draco turned to his friend. "Are you ready?"

Blaise sniffed the air and licked his lips, his dark eyes suddenly glassy and unfocussed.

"Blaise? Are you all right?" Concerned that something had gone awry with the potion, Draco peered into his friend's eyes.

Blaise blinked, drew in some air and rasped, "Yes. It's just, I feel a bit weird."

"Define weird," Draco urged him.

Blaise inhaled deeply and groaned. "I think, I can sense Granger, and she's behind the door."

"What do you mean…." The knock on the door interrupted Draco. He threw Blaise a bewildered glare and called, "Come in."

As predicted, it was Granger. She opened the door and strode right in, filling the room with the enthusiastic staccato of her heels clicking over the parquet. Draco narrowed his eyes, his gaze raking her from head to feet. As much as it pained him, he had to admit that the witch looked surprisingly… attractive, even in her prim white blouse and black skirt.

"Hermione Granger," he exclaimed with mock delight. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Hermione walked to his desk, slammed her palms on its mahogany surface, and said, "Cut that nonsense, Malfoy. You know precisely why I am here. I have a confirmation that your office received my letter yesterday night. So, please, don't waste my time and show me where your documents are. I haven't got all day." With that she sat down in one of the leather armchairs, giving him the opportunity to savour the sight of her round knees and slim ankles.

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco noticed Blaise moving closer. "Well, well, well, Granger, aren't we all business today? Come on, sweetheart, don't be like that," wheedled Blaise in his smooth baritone as he rounded Draco's desk and swooped down on the witch with predatory precision, his dark eyes glinting.

Draco knew that glint too well—Blaise was going for the kill. Smirking, he leaned back and focused on Granger's face, watching for indications that the potion they made was working. This was going to be a fine show—the poor little witch being conquered by the one and only Blaise Zabini.

Blaise crouched in front of the witch, his hands gripping the armrests of the chair, his dusky, almost feral eyes fixed on her. "So, what do you say, little one? How about a bit of foreplay?" Moving even closer, Blaise covered her knee with his palm, slowly slithering his way under her black skirt.

At this point, Draco was certain that he heard Granger gasp, and for a fleeting moment, she just silently stared into Blaise's eyes, her pupils dilated and her lips quivering. He could even discern her pebbled nipples under the white silk of her blouse. The next instant, however, she seemed to catch herself and a wicked smile quirked her lips up as she murmured, "I would love to play, dear. Truly, I would." She traced Blaise's full lips with her thumb, and when he instinctively parted them, dipped it inside his mouth. "Alas," she continued, "I usually don't mix business with pleasure." Concluding her words with a hard shove to Blaise's chin and forcing him to grasp the desk to steady himself, the witch faced Draco again and added, "Show me where the documents are, Malfoy. Unless, of course, you want me to fine you as being unwilling to cooperate."

Draco harrumphed and sent a glare in Blaise's direction. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Granger. We have everything ready for you. Follow me."

It took him a while to find all the papers she needed. Leaving her in Laura's room, he returned to his office and found an agitated-looking Blaise waiting there for him.

"I think we're majorly fucked up."

"Thank you for stating the obvious, Blaise. I just spent thirty minutes showing Granger our files—fucked up doesn't quite cover it. The question is, however, why the hell your potion didn't work?"

"I'm not convinced that it didn't. Perhaps I underestimated Granger's self-control a bit."

"A bit?" Draco countered. "I told you."

"She is affected, Draco. She's fighting it."

"How do you know that she's affected?"

"Well, that brings us to another problem we apparently have. That potion we made, I think it backfired somehow, 'cause, I feel her. I mean literally. Here, in the office, she was reacting to me. She was getting wet, and I could smell it." Blaise sank into the leather armchair, ran his hand through his short hair and asked, "What do we do?"

Draco cursed. _Could this day get any worse?_ Somehow, he had a suspicion that it could. Looking at the slumped figure of his friend, he proposed, "We do nothing. She'll finish her audit and go back to her bloody Ministry, and we'll go back to the lab and get to the bottom of it."

"I'm not sure that I can handle being around her that long," grumbled Blaise, adjusting his straining trousers. "I don't know what she's doing there, behind those doors, but I'm getting all kind of vibes from that room, and it's driving me bonkers. Shite, I need a cold shower and a long, long, long wank."

Feeling beyond annoyed, Draco snapped, "Blaise, get a grip!" He regretted his choice of words instantly, because his friend abruptly stood up and rushed to the loo. "Damn," Draco growled and returned to his desk. Never before had he found himself in such an absurd situation.

It was blissfully quiet for about twenty minutes, and he almost forgot about their predicament. But then, Blaise returned and turned the next sixty minutes or so of Draco's life into undiluted hell. Not a minute went by without him telling Draco exactly what he wanted to do to Granger. And even though Draco tried his best to ignore Blaise's nonsense, he wasn't entirely successful in this particular quest. He wasn't made out of steel, after all.

"I want to shag her senseless," growled Blaise in a husky whisper. "But first, I want her to sit on my face and let me lick her sweet, wet pussy until she comes right in my mouth. I'll slip one of my fingers in her tight—"

"Arrgh, can you stop, for fuck's sake?" yelled Draco, already driven utterly berserk.

Completely ignoring Draco's shout, Blaise suddenly straightened up as his eyes darkened and his breath turned jagged. "She's up to something! I can feel it," he rasped, drawing the air in through his flared nostrils. Blaise groaned, dropping his face into his hands in defeat. A moment later, however, he sprang up again, muttered, "You know what—I've had enough. I'm going in," and marched toward the door.

"What do you mean, '_You're going in_'? Are you completely out of your mind? She'll kill you and bankrupt our company! Blaise!"

"Don't worry, mate. You know me, I have my ways," replied Blaise, who was already in the corridor.

_Fuck_, bolted through Draco's mind as he sprinted after his apparently absolutely mad friend. By the time he reached Laura's office, Blaise was in already in, and the door was left ajar. With his wand at the ready, Draco barged inside but was stopped frozen by the sight that appeared before him.

Hermione Granger was seated atop Laura's desk with Blaise already positioned between her parted thighs, with his lips moving against her arched neck. Her pristine white blouse was badly askew, giving Draco a clear view of one of her dark-rose nipples being teased and pinched by Blaise's skilled fingers. His other hand was under the witch's skirt, gyrating in an unmistakable pattern, and Draco could hear Blaise's low murmur, "Granger, Granger, Granger, you _are_ a naughty little girl, aren't you? Sitting here without knickers, wet and ready for me."

There was something so extremely erotic in the stark contrast between Granger's pale flesh and Blaise's dark hands on it that Draco was forced to stifle an involuntary groan. He was certain that the image of Granger's exposed breast was now engraved in his mind forever. "Bugger me," muttered Draco and silently backed away from the room.

"Close the door, Malfoy," he heard Granger's husky voice. "I am afraid Zabini won't be leaving anytime soon."

Draco huffed, but did as he was asked and carefully closed the door.

**Epilogue**

Draco had seen neither Blaise nor Granger that day. However, he was oddly pleased to find one more letter from the Ministry on his desk the next morning. This time, Granger requested his presence in her office at eight in the morning. Apparently, she had found some problems with MZI's protocols.

Grinning, Draco rushed down to the lab, uncorked their new potion, muttered 'Cheers' and took a spoonful. _Here_, he smirked and Apparated to the Ministry.

**Fin**


End file.
